Title: Fake Plastic Perfection

Author: Flannery

Rating: PG

Pairing: Jonathan/Buffybot

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not at all mine.

Author's Notes: Takes place in season five, just before "Intervention". Just a quick ficlet - written while in class (yes, I'm being productive) so it's unbetaed and possibly inconsistent as I keep having to minimize it and pretend to be doing actual work.

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"Guh."

Jonathan, with his saucer-wide eyes and gaping mouth, resembled either a very large and freshly dead fish or a rather small human male standing before a sexually subservient robotic version of his dream girl.

Eyes unable to blink, lest the robot Buffy dissolve before his closed lids, he slid a trembling hand up her thigh, under the flouncy pink skirt. The machine didn't respond in the negative, nor did it respond at all, and so Jonathan let his hand continue its ascent.

Until Warren smacked his forearm. "Hands off, Hobbit. She's not yours."

Jonathan's palm felt like it'd touched the sun and survived unburnt but forever warmed. He exhaled loudly, blinked at last his dry eyes, and croaked, "You have got to build me one."

"No." Warren shook his head. "I'm officially out of the girl-bot business. After April..." Something grey crossed Warren's face - guilt, or loss. "This is the last one. Ever."

His fantasy slipping away like it was butter-coated, Jonathan looked imploringly at his friend. "Can I at least play with her?" That sounded bad. "I mean..."

Grinning, Warren said, "Yeah, I know what you meant. But she won't respond to you, not unless you're Spike."

"Stupid vampires." He snorted in the direction of the Buffybot.

"She's specially programmed. He left, um, detailed instructions. Several pages of them."

Jonathan considered asking if he could read them. But that, he decided, would sound beyond pathetic.

Warren slumped into his chair, spun lazily in a circle before facing Jonathan again. "You should probably go," he said in a bored tone. "I've got to deliver her soon. Just thought you'd like to see the finished product."

"Yeah," said Jonathan, "thanks." Again his eyes were fixed to the blonde robot. Her eyes were gently closed, like she was sleeping, her lips softly pursed together. That face was the most mesmerizing thing Jonathan had ever seen. He'd always wanted to see Buffy's eyes - the real Buffy - sunk shut in slumber, her corn silk hair spread over his pillow...

He felt Warren's hand on his shoulder. "Don't you worry, Sparky. She'll be treated well."

Jonathan knew, and he didn't try to mask the envy on his face.

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